The Werewolf Social Club was unusually quiet when I arrived thirty minutes early. I'd chosen my timing deliberately—early enough to position myself where I needed to be, but not so early as to raise suspicions. The staff nodded respectfully as I passed, their eyes lowering slightly in deference to the future Luna of Silvermoon Pack.

"Good evening, Miss Irene," the bartender greeted me, his voice carefully neutral. "What can I get for you?"

"Just water for now, thank you," I replied with a smile that felt like a mask on my face. "I'm waiting for Lucas."

I took a seat in the far corner booth, my back to the wall, with a clear view of the service entrance. The position was perfect—close enough to hear conversations in the adjoining VIP section, but shadowed enough that I wouldn't immediately be noticed.

I pulled out my phone, opening the recording app and setting it to activate when voices reached a certain volume. Then I waited.

They arrived right on schedule.

"—need to be more careful," Lucas was saying as they slipped through the service door, his voice low but clear in the quiet club. "She's been asking questions."

Tina laughed, that same sharp, cruel sound I remembered from my previous life. "Questions? About what? You're being paranoid. Little Miss Perfect is too busy planning her princess wedding to notice anything."

"Still," Lucas insisted, settling into the booth directly across from mine, though the partition concealed me from view. "We need to handle the Irene problem before the engagement party. If she starts digging..."

"Then we'll handle it," Tina said dismissively. "She's not exactly the suspicious type, is she? Trust me, she'll never see it coming."

I felt my blood run cold as I heard Lucas chuckle in agreement. My fingers trembled slightly as I adjusted the phone's position, ensuring it captured every word.

"The question is," Tina continued, her voice dropping to a seductive purr, "after we handle her, what's next for us?"

I didn't stay to hear his answer. I had what I needed.

* * *

"Try this one," Lucas suggested, holding up a platinum bracelet studded with diamonds. "It matches your eyes."

We were in the most exclusive jewelry store in the city, surrounded by glittering displays and attentive staff who hovered nearby, eager to assist the future Alpha pair.

"It's beautiful," I said, allowing him to fasten it around my wrist. The weight of it felt like a shackle. "Though perhaps a bit ostentatious for everyday wear."

Lucas nodded absently, his attention already drifting to his phone as it buzzed in his pocket. I watched his expression change subtly as he glanced at the screen—a tightening around the eyes, a slight straightening of his posture.

"Work?" I asked innocently.

"Hmm? Oh, yes," he replied, slipping the phone back into his pocket. "Nothing important."

But I'd caught the glimpse of Tina's name on the screen before he'd turned away.

"Let's look at rings," he suggested, guiding me toward another display case. "The engagement party is only days away."

As we examined the rings, I noticed how his attention kept drifting back to his pocket where his phone rested. Each time it buzzed, his shoulders tensed almost imperceptibly.

"Is everything alright?" I asked, watching his reactions carefully.

"Fine," he said curtly. Then, catching himself, he softened his tone. "Just some pack business I need to handle before the ceremony."

I nodded sympathetically, letting him think I believed him. "You work too hard," I said, reaching for his hand. "Even with our engagement party so close."

He pulled his hand away to check his phone again, and I saw Tina's name flash across the screen once more.

* * *

The gym's locker room was steamy from the showers, the air heavy with the scent of soap and sweat. I was changing into my workout clothes when Tina sauntered in, her eyes narrowing as she spotted me.

"Well, look who's finally decided to join the real world," she said, gesturing at my workout attire. "Though I doubt those little weights will do much for that soft body of yours."

I finished tying my hair back, regarding her calmly. "Actually, I've been thinking about trying something new today."

"Oh?" She raised an eyebrow, clearly not expecting this reaction. In my previous life, I would have simply ignored her or offered a polite smile.

"Sparring," I said simply. "I hear you're quite good at it."

The shock on her face was almost worth the trouble I'd gone to. "Sparring? With me?"

"Why not?" I shrugged, as if challenging her to a physical confrontation was the most natural thing in the world. "Unless you're afraid?"

"Afraid?" She laughed, but there was an edge to it now—uncertainty. "You're joking, right?"

"Am I?" I stepped closer, my voice dropping to a whisper. "Or maybe I just want to see if you're as tough as you think you are."

* * *

The sparring circle had drawn quite a crowd by the time we stepped into it. Word had spread quickly through the gym—the future Luna challenging her rival to a fight.

Tina circled me warily, her confidence visibly shaken by my unexpected skills. I moved with a grace and precision that clearly surprised her, blocking her first few attacks with ease.

"Where did you learn to fight like this?" she demanded, her breathing already labored.

I smiled, not answering as I sidestepped another lunge. In truth, these skills were from my previous life—months of training after my death, preparing for this moment.

Frustrated by her inability to land a hit, Tina's technique began to falter. Her attacks became wilder, less controlled, as rage replaced strategy.

"Is this all you've got?" I taunted softly, ducking under her swing and landing a precise blow to her ribs.

She gasped in pain and fury, charging at me with reckless abandon. I met her charge with calm precision, using her momentum against her and sweeping her legs from under her. She hit the mat hard, the air rushing from her lungs.

Before she could recover, I was on her, pinning her to the ground with my forearm across her throat.

"Yield," I said quietly.

The crowd had grown silent, watching in stunned disbelief as the soft-spoken future Luna systematically dismantled her opponent.

* * *

"What the hell is going on here?"

Lucas's voice cut through the silence as he pushed his way through the crowd. His eyes darted between Tina, still on the ground, and me, standing calmly beside her.

"Your fiancée just kicked my ass," Tina spat, finally finding her voice as she struggled to her feet.

Lucas's expression darkened as he looked at me, confusion and suspicion warring in his eyes. "Irene? Since when can you fight like that?"

I met his gaze with perfect innocence. "Since I decided to prepare for my role as Luna," I said sweetly. "After all, an Alpha's mate should be able to handle herself, don't you think?"

"That's not—" He stopped, clearly struggling to process what he'd just witnessed. "That's not the Irene I know."

"No," I agreed, stepping closer to him. "Perhaps you never really knew me at all."

His eyes widened slightly at the subtle threat beneath my words.

"Or perhaps," I continued, my voice dropping to a whisper only he could hear, "you should be asking yourself why I'm not the same person anymore."

The uncertainty in his eyes told me he was beginning to doubt his own perceptions—exactly as I'd intended.

The Crystal Ballroom of the Silvermoon Hotel glittered with chandeliers and the polished smiles of werewolf society's elite. I moved through the crowd with practiced ease, a champagne flute in my hand that I had no intention of drinking from. Tonight wasn't about indulgence—it was about information.

"Irene," Elder Cassandra greeted me, her sharp eyes taking in my appearance. "You look... different."

"Thank you," I replied, lowering my voice slightly. "I've been doing some thinking about my future."

She nodded approvingly, then leaned closer. "You should know that Tina has been making quite the rounds tonight. She's been seen with several of the council members."

Perfect.

"She has?" I feigned surprise, my eyes widening just enough to seem genuine. "How interesting."

"Indeed," Elder Cassandra murmured. "Especially since she's been asking very specific questions about pack succession laws."

I sipped my champagne, watching over the rim as Tina laughed too loudly at something Alpha Marcus had said. "That does seem... unusual for someone in her position."

"Unusual indeed," agreed Elder Cassandra, her gaze following mine. "One might wonder what her true motivations are."

I set my glass down carefully. "I've been wondering that myself lately."

The seed was planted. I moved on to the next target—Beta James, Lucas's cousin and a respected pack enforcer.

"James," I greeted him warmly. "I was hoping to catch you."

"Irene," he nodded, his expression guarded. "Lucas mentioned you might be stopping by."

"Did he?" I tilted my head slightly. "How thoughtful of him to keep track of my whereabouts."

James's eyes flickered with something—recognition, perhaps, of the subtle barb. "He's protective of you."

"Is he?" I asked softly. "Or is he protective of what I represent?"

Before James could respond, I continued, my voice barely above a whisper. "You know, I've always admired how you've built your own reputation—through merit, not association."

The flattery worked; his posture relaxed slightly. "What exactly are you getting at, Irene?"

"Nothing specific," I said, my eyes drifting to where Tina stood, now deep in conversation with Alpha Marcus's son. "I'm just starting to pay attention to who values what around here."

* * *

"I find that interesting."

I turned to find Ryan standing beside me, his expression unreadable as always, but his eyes sharp with interest.

"What do you find interesting?" I asked, though I already knew.

"The way you're systematically planting doubt about Tina throughout the room," he replied, his voice low enough that only I could hear. "It's... strategic."

I met his gaze steadily. "And is that a problem?"

"Not at all," he said, surprising me by taking a glass of champagne from a passing server and offering it to me. "I'm merely observing."

I accepted the glass but didn't drink. "And what else have you observed?"

"Justice and revenge are often confused," he said, his eyes never leaving mine. "Which are you after, Irene?"

The question caught me off guard. No one had asked me that directly before—not in this life or my previous one.

"Does it matter?" I countered.

"It might," he replied, his voice carrying a weight that made me study him more carefully. "Justice seeks truth. Revenge... well, revenge often blinds us to it."

Something in his words resonated with me—a recognition that went beyond casual observation.

"You speak as if you understand both," I said carefully.

A shadow crossed his face. "Let's just say I've seen what happens when the line between them is crossed."

For a moment, I wondered if he somehow knew—if he could sense what I was, what I had been. The thought sent a chill down my spine.

* * *

The hotel elevator was my trap, and they walked right into it.

I'd timed it perfectly—waiting until I saw Lucas and Tina disappear into the service corridor before making my way to the main elevator bank. When the doors slid open, revealing them in a heated embrace, I wasn't even surprised.

"Lucas," I said softly.

They broke apart like guilty teenagers, Tina's lipstick smudged across Lucas's collar. His face drained of color.

"Irene—" he began, but I cut him off.

"Don't," I said, my voice steady as I pulled out my phone. "Just... don't."

Tina recovered first, her eyes narrowing as she recognized something different in my demeanor. "Are you going to cry, Irene? Make a scene?"

I smiled then—a cold, sharp smile that made her take an involuntary step back.

"No," I said, taking a photo of them both. "I'm going to remember this moment very clearly."

Lucas lunged forward, reaching for my phone, but I was faster. The elevator doors closed, sealing them inside as I walked away.

* * *

By morning, Tina's counter-attack was in full swing.

The video appeared on every werewolf social media platform—carefully edited footage showing me in what appeared to be intimate conversations with different male pack members. The captions suggested an affair, the comments already spiraling into vicious speculation.

"Have you seen it?" my mother asked, her face pale as she showed me her phone.

I nodded, scrolling through the comments with detached interest. "It's quite the production."

"Aren't you going to defend yourself?" she asked, clearly distressed. "Lucas is furious."

"I'm sure he is," I replied calmly, setting down the phone. "But not for the reasons you think."

I didn't explain further. Instead, I opened my laptop and began typing—not a public response, but a carefully crafted private message to Jenna Vance, the most influential werewolf blogger in our circle.

"I have something you might find interesting," I wrote, attaching the unedited elevator footage. "But I'd like to meet first to discuss terms."

Her response came almost immediately: "I'm intrigued."

* * *

The Alpha family gathering was held in the grand hall of the pack house, a tradition dating back generations. I arrived fashionably late—deliberately so.

The red dress I wore was no accident. Deep crimson, it hugged every curve before flaring slightly at my knees. In werewolf culture, red was the color of Alpha bloodlines—a color Tina, with her commoner background, would never dare to wear.

The effect was immediate. Conversations stuttered as heads turned, eyes widening at the statement I'd made without saying a word.

"Is that...?" someone whispered.

"An Alpha-blood dress," came the reply. "She's making a statement."

Lucas met me at the entrance, his eyes dark with barely contained fury. "What are you wearing?"

I smiled sweetly. "Red. Don't I look nice?"

Behind him, Tina appeared in a pale blue gown—elegant but subdued. Her eyes narrowed as she took in my appearance, understanding immediately what I'd done.

"You can't wear that," she hissed, low enough that only I could hear. "It's inappropriate."

"On the contrary," I replied, loud enough for nearby guests to hear. "I believe it's perfectly appropriate for the future Luna of Silvermoon Pack."

I brushed past them both, accepting a glass of champagne from a passing server as I moved into the crowd. The whispers followed me—some curious, some admiring, all noticing.

As I took my place beside Lucas's mother, I caught Ryan watching me from across the room, a slight smile playing at the corners of his mouth. He raised his glass in a silent toast.

I returned the gesture, feeling the pieces of my plan falling into place.